


Shadow Dancing

by hideeho



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Buck has a vivid imagination, Camping, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, buddie pwp week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:15:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26243266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hideeho/pseuds/hideeho
Summary: He’s so fucking screwed.God, he wishes he was being screwed.Or; Buck and Eddie go camping and a trick of the light leads to an interesting night.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 347





	Shadow Dancing

**Author's Note:**

> A giant thank you as always to Tarialdarion for being my beta!

Eddie’s pretty in the firelight. 

Eddie’s gorgeous in general; handsome in a way that would inspire artists to carve his likeness out of marble hundreds of years ago. But now, with his sharp cheekbones highlighted by the glow of the fire, the whites of his eyes bright in the night Buck can’t think of any way to describe him other than pretty. 

Buck keeps the thought to himself, settles instead for grabbing another beer out of the cooler beside him. 

“Thanks for doing this with me,” Buck says softly over the crackle of the fire in front of them. 

“Of course, man,” Eddie replies like it’s nothing, because for him it is. It’s nothing to spend some of his precious free time going camping because Buck made an offhand comment about always wanting to go. Only, it’s not nothing, because Buck has always wanted to go but never had anyone who would take him or even just come along. 

He never had someone who would quietly smile as he researched all the best camping sites within a four hour driving distance. He never had someone who would laugh with fondness when he arrived with a jeep loaded up with the top recommended camping gear meant for the most experienced camper just for an overnight trip. He never had someone who would simply shake his head in amusement and help him set up his all-weather tent without having to be asked. 

“I can’t believe you bought a tent for this. You don’t even know if you like camping,” Eddie chuckles. 

“Where else would I sleep?”

“Buck, I told you I had a tent. Plenty of room for both of us.”

“That old thing? It doesn’t even have a rain tarp.”

“For all the rain California gets in July,” Eddie says dryly, rolling his eyes. 

“It’s too hot to share,” Buck adds practically and for all it looks like there is something Eddie wants to say, he remains silent. 

Which is all to say Eddie going camping with him isn’t nothing; it’s most definitely something. So much for his eight-step plan for getting over his massively pathetic crush on his best friend. Although in hindsight, a camping trip under the stars was probably a bit ambitious when he is still on step two. 

They’re alone at the campsite, yet for all the wide open space surrounding them they’re sitting close enough their knees press against each other when Eddie leans back in his chair. Eddie’s face is soft, flush from the beer and the heat and there is a sheen of sweat plastering his short hair to his forehead. They’re close enough Buck can smell the mix of bug spray, smoke and sweat that should be disgusting but only makes him want to lean in closer until he can smell the scent that’s so uniquely Eddie underneath. 

He’s so fucking screwed. 

God, he wishes he was being screwed. 

He shakes his head at the thought as Eddie lets out his third yawn in ten minutes. 

“Go to bed, old man. I know it’s past your bedtime.”

“And leave you alone to be eaten by a bear?” Eddie challenges. 

“There are no bears around here.”

“They have one on the state flag. They’re bound to be around here somewhere,” Eddie argues playfully, narrowing his eyes at the treeline in suspicion. “Fine, a bobcat then.” 

“I think I can manage. I want to stay out here a little longer. I’ll take care of the fire.” The last thing anyone needs is two members of the 118 being responsible for a wildfire. He can imagine the headline now. 

“If you’re sure.” Eddie seems to hesitate a moment, weighing something in his mind before pulling himself up. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Night, Eddie.” 

“Night, Buck,” Eddie says softly, sparing him one last look before climbing into his tent and zipping up the flap behind him. Buck forces his attention to the small fire before him and away from the thoughts of following Eddie into that tent. 

Three beers over three hours and he has lost his damn mind. 

He glances back up at Eddie’s tent, eyes widening as the light from the fire silhouettes Eddie’s frame from behind the fabric. He watches Eddie’s shadow remove his shirt, picturing the long line of his torso from memory. He doesn’t need to close his eyes to see the soft layer of flesh over a hard line of muscle, the soft black hairs trailing down from his belly button to a place Buck has not yet seen. 

Yet, as if that’s ever going to change. 

Eddie bends to remove his shorts and it takes Buck a moment to realize he either took off his underwear at the same time or wasn’t wearing them to begin with. Eddie stretches where he stands, the outline of his soft cock swaying slightly between his legs with the movement. 

He should look away; he highly doubts Eddie would be a fan of his best friend violating his privacy so he could perv on him. On the other hand, he’s not really looking at anything. A shadow. An outline. When did he become so pathetic? 

Eddie shuffles around the tent, allowing Buck time to trace the ample curve of his ass with his eyes. Eddie finally moves to lay down and Buck releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. It’s nothing, a shadow, so why the hell does his mouth feel dry at the knowledge Eddie is naked only a few feet away? 

Maybe Chim is right, maybe he does need to get laid. 

Too bad the only person he wants beneath him, on top of him, in any number of positions, is laying naked in that tent. 

Buck forces himself to look at the sights around him: the roaring fire, the outline of the trees, the thousands of stars he can’t see through the lights of the city. There is stunning beauty all around him, but his eyes keep darting back to Eddie’s tent. 

Eddie’s clearly struggling to get comfortable, not that Buck’s surprised given that his sleeping bag looks like it’s been around longer than Buck has been alive. Eddie continues to wiggle around before he finally settles in, his arm moving to—

Oh. 

Apparently Eddie has decided to take full advantage of having a tent to himself. 

Eddie’s arm is moving languidly, allowing Buck to get a glimpse of the way Eddie likes it, twisting his wrist at the top in a way Buck would happily master. Buck can barely see the outline of Eddie’s dick growing hard through the tent. He leans forward, trying to determine if the shadow playing out is truly representative of Eddie’s length and girth or if it’s an exaggeration of the light and his overactive imagination. 

He can’t see an inch of skin, but Buck has always had a vivid imagination and it doesn’t take much to fill in the blanks. He can picture long fingers wrapped around taut skin, the dark head just starting to leak precome. Had Eddie brought lube with him on a camping trip? Or is he rubbing himself off dry, palm slick with spit as his abs tense under the strain of his growing desire? 

Maybe Eddie likes the friction. 

Maybe he gets off on the feel of it being a touch too dry, a touch too rough as he slowly jacks himself off. 

Fuck, he looks long. Thick. Like he could fill Buck up, stretch him out, and finally make him feel whole. Buck’s cock twitches at the thought. 

Buck knows how large Eddie’s hands are; his stomach still flips at how much space Eddie’s palm takes up on his side when he hugs him close. He’s had a lot of time to think about those hands, but it somehow hasn’t prepared him to watch them move up and down Eddie’s own cock as his hips grind up slowly. 

He strains to hear the familiar sound of flesh sliding against flesh, only to be thwarted by the crackle of the log and sounds of nature. 

Fucking nature. 

He wants to hear Eddie moan, wants to hear the short gasps escaping Eddie’s lips as he drives himself towards pleasure. He’s always imagined his moans holding a bit of a growl, vibrating through his chest as it slides through his lips. 

Eddie must be holding himself back to be so quiet. Is he biting his lip? Pink flesh pulled tight by sharp teeth. Or is he simply that in control? Hoarding his pleasure all to himself as he chases his desire. 

Buck doesn’t want him to be quiet. He wants him loud, desperate and begging beneath his touch. Eddie has a sharp mouth and Buck wants to hear his most shameless desires. Buck could make him talk, could tease it out of him with a scrape of nails and teeth, a slide of tongue and a thrust of his cock. 

How Buck longs to place his hands on the small of Eddie’s back, urging him on as his hips thrust up against him. Buck can practically feel the jolt of pleasure at their cocks sliding against each other, his skin slick beneath him as he pulls Eddie closer. Or maybe he would hold him down, feel Eddie’s body strain against his grasp as he presses down on the line of Eddie’s hips. He wants to bury his lips against Eddie’s neck, licking the line of sweat to the hollow of his throat. He wants to take Eddie in his mouth, feel his cock against the back of his throat and his taste sharp on his tongue. He wants Eddie’s cock in his hand as Buck stretches him open from behind. He wants to feel Eddie fall apart, shaking with pleasure as he clenches tight around him. 

He wants so many things, but instead he sits hard and alone chasing shadows. 

He doesn’t know if Eddie is getting close, if his thighs are really shaking as he pursues his release or if it’s the flutter of the wind against the tent. Eddie props a knee up, his fist sliding up and down his cock with more urgency, twisting, twisting—

Buck grips himself roughly over his shorts, grinding up into the heel of his palm, the fabric damp against his fingers. He’s barely touched himself and he’s already leaking. Already it’s not enough. Buck slides his hand down the waistband of his shorts to where he needs contact the most, rolling his hips in time with Eddie’s movements. 

The angle is all wrong, too dry, but it’s all he’ll allow himself. This is wrong, it’s so fucking wrong, he knows it is, but he doesn’t care. He’s falling apart from the outline of someone jacking off. 

But it’s not just an outline, it’s Eddie. 

It’s Eddie who is thrusting up into the night air, it’s Eddie who has his head thrown back and his long neck exposed. 

Is Eddie thinking of him? Is Eddie imagining him between his knees, lips wrapped around his cock as Eddie buries his hand in his hair? Or is he thinking of a small frame and perky breasts that fit perfectly in the palm of his hands? Would his dream girl open wide for him? Let him fuck her mouth however he wanted and beg for more? Because Buck would. Buck would do whatever Eddie asked, because Eddie would never ask for more than he could offer. 

Buck imagines Eddie’s hand in place of his own, his long thick fingers teasing him, his thumb gliding over the tip of his cock before sliding down to fondle his balls. He imagines the wet heat of Eddie’s mouth around him, pressing his thighs against Eddie’s stubbled jaw to scratch up his flesh, a souvenir to remind him of the moment for days afterwards. 

He sees Eddie tense sharply, his back arching beautifully before collapsing down. Buck’s own orgasm hits him by surprise, cum slicking his fingers under his shorts as his leg kicks out with the force of his release. His foot lands directly into the fire as he rides the wave of his release. 

“Fuck,” Buck yelps in surprise, flames licking at the bare skin of his ankle before he can pull his leg back to safety. Buck tries not to take it as a sign from the universe that he’s going to hell. 

“Buck?” Eddie questions, halfway out of the tent and looking at him in concern before Buck knows what’s happening. He can see the exact moment Eddie realizes Buck is sitting with his hand down his pants, flushed and breathless. Eddie’s eyes are wide open in surprise and he prays to whatever god is out there that Eddie can’t see the wet spot at the front of his shorts in the darkness. As if that one small grace would be enough to keep Eddie from putting the pieces of Buck’s depravity together. 

He should say something, but what the fuck is he supposed to say? _I’m so desperate and in love with you that I got off on your silhouette._ That’s not weird, right? 

The silence stretches between them, each second another bucket of cold water on his skin. He can’t even grant himself the dignity of sliding his hand out of his shorts, the telltale wetness on his fingers sure to make everything worse. “Go back to sleep, Eddie. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Buck mumbles, suddenly fascinated by the dying fire. 

He has no one to blame for this situation but himself. 

“Maybe I wish you would.”

_Say what now?_

“What?”

Eddie shrugs, hair askew and a lazy grin on his face, still coming down from his release. He knows Eddie enough to know he’s embarrassed - or was it nervous- even if he’s playing it cool. “Just...you don’t have to be embarrassed. I was thinking about you too.” 

For the second time in two minutes Buck’s vision goes white. 

Eddie is back inside his tent by the time Buck regains his ability to speak, but the flap of his tent is open. 

He couldn’t mean—

He wouldn’t just—

He was thinking about him too. 

Buck scrambles to get up, wiping his hand on his shorts as he moves at record speed to put out the fire and join Eddie in his tent. 

If Bobby thinks it’s strange how Buck blushes head to toe when he asks him what he thinks of camping on Monday morning he doesn’t say anything. Not even when Eddie goddamn _smirks_ , clapping his hand on Buck’s shoulder before speaking for him. “Oh, he’s a _big_ fan.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos keep me going. Thank you for reading!


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